


You Take Me By The Heart When You Take Me By The Hand

by revenblue



Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [137]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Asexual Character, Asexual Incubus, Asexual Perry the Platypus, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, POV Second Person, Perry comes out to Ferb and Phineas as a demon, Perry gets wooed, Perry isn't good with words, Perry moonlights as a stray platypus who doesn't do much, Perry's ace but not aro, no OWCA, offscreen sex for untagged relationships, the most Perry and Heinz ever do is smooch and hold hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: Normally, an incubus is a master of seduction. Normally, an incubus can charm a soul out of anyone. Normally, an incubus doesn't catch feelings.Normalhas never heard of Doctor Heinz Doofenshmirtz.
Relationships: Ferb Fletcher & Phineas Flynn & Perry the Platypus, Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus
Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same (Perryshmirtz) [137]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/746841
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43
Collections: Perryshmirtz Week 2020





	You Take Me By The Heart When You Take Me By The Hand

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a little late, but,
> 
> Perryshmirtz Week Day 7: Free Day / **Holding Hands**

Walking out of yet another unfamiliar house, freshly showered to get the mess out of your fur, you sigh. _Humans_. At least none of them ever last your full six hours on this plane, so you have plenty of time to wander over to a now-familiar neighbourhood, just as the sun rises.

With the sun comes the only humans you can tolerate, and only because they don't _know_ what you are. They think you're an ordinary platypus who doesn't do much. A fiction you're content to indulge in.

Demons come in all shapes and sizes, and yours is, of all things, a platypus. A small teal-furred mammal. Not a human, you can't blend in with humans, but an animal.

It's better this way. You don't want to risk them turning on you if they found out your true nature, even as young as they are.

As a demon, you don't belong on this plane, and humans know it. Some look at you with disgust, while others see you, and your kind, as an opportunity. If you're lucky, all they'll ever see is an animal.

The humans walk past, tools in hand, and you follow after, eager to see what they'll build today. The taller one, who goes by Ferb, pauses to pat your head while the shorter one - you think he's called Phineas - chatters away. "Hey, Perry," Phineas adds, glancing over at you, and carries on like nothing's strange.

Not technically your name, that's a secret only your employers know, but you haven't had the heart to correct them. Besides, it's growing on you.

Some demons return to the Underneath when they're finished with a client, proud of their work. You've always been different. Sure, work is work, and the business of souls is lucrative, but you've always wished for something... more.

That's why you're _here_ , pretending you're something you're not.

The first time you'd met them is still fresh in your memory. You'd been on these streets around their house, just done with a job and exhausted, and when you'd heard footsteps you'd dropped down to all fours. Better to be thought of as an animal than a demon. It _worked_ , they'd thought you were a simple platypus. And then, of all things, they'd invited you to join them.

So you had, and it had soothed the gnawing in your chest, a mix of hunger and... You'd call it loneliness, but demons don't get lonely. That's what you've always been taught. Still, you can't deny it was enjoyable, meeting humans without any expectations for you.

You hadn't thought it would be so freeing, but here you are, back again to watch them at their own work. Much more pleasant than your own.

The shard of soul crystal on your wrist pulses after a while, a warning that your time's nearly up, and you duck out of their sight before you disappear. Back to the Underneath.

* * *

You have another client that evening. Human man, middle-aged, divorced, first-time customer. Records only go back thirty years and depict him as a teenager. Probable furry tendencies, if _you're_ being called in for this.

When you arrive on the human plane, you see no evidence for that last part, in the pristine room straight out of a furniture catalogue. Not that that's ever meant much.

What's more surprising is that he's fully clothed.

"I didn't know what to wear," he explains with a sheepish grin, at your raised eyebrow, not that that explains the pharmacist getup. "This is my first time - I mean, you probably _know_ that, your place seems to _love_ its _paperwork_ \- and I thought, uh, well, I was _desperate_ \- Where are my manners? I'm Doctor Heinz Doofenshmirtz, but my friends call me- Well, never mind _that_." Then he holds out a hand. For a _handshake_.

The torrent of words over, you take it, feeling as uncomfortable as he looks. Handshakes may as well be meaningless for demons like you. A pale imitation of a proper joining of bodies, or at least that's what you've always been told, and no substitute at all for a signed contract.

The man - who you'll call Heinz if it comes down to it, first name basis always leading to better results with clients - rocks on his heels, seemingly nervous. "This is the part where _you_ tell me who _you_ are," he prompts.

He wants a name? You can't give him your true name, not unless you want to risk him summoning you, whenever and wherever he wants, but that's the only-

"Perry," you say, on a whim, with the voice you rarely use. It's not your job to hold conversations, beyond the minimum necessary to fulfil a client's desires. Who would listen to a _demon_?

"Perry..." This man, apparently. "Perry the Platypus? Can I call you that?"

Staring levelly at him to resist the urge to sigh, you nod. It's not like you'll ever see him again. You don't get repeat clients, and your bosses know it. What you get is _results_.

By the end of the night, you should be going back to the Underneath with this man's soul signed away. It's not like he's had much need of it.

He claps his hands together, with a grin that pulls at the scars and pockmarks on his face. "Right! Now that _that's_ out of the way... I mean, I know what you're thinking, but-"

Might as well get this over with. You jump at him, hands and feet latching onto his ridiculous lab coat, and shift your weight to send him slamming into a wall, where you crash your mouth against his. That's what these humans like, right?"

Grabbing the scruff of your neck, he pulls you off, brows furrowed in a glare while you dangle from his hand. "You could have let me _finish_ ," he grumbles. "Don't you _incubi_ know how to _ask_? Sheesh! At least take me to _dinner_ first," he continues. "I- I don't even _know_ you, and you think I'll just hop into _bed_ with you? What kind of man do you take me for?"

Then why are you here? He's already paid the price, a portion of his life force, and he's just standing around doing nothing? Most humans, once they reach the point of looking to your employers for _comfort_ , are eager to get into it.

After all, your employers exist to solve the loneliness of humans. That's how it's always been. That's your _job_. So what _does_ he want if it's not _sex_?

"I mean, I can see where you went wrong," he says, setting you down. "I _did_ say I'm _desperate_. But it's not _like_ that, believe me. I don't want _pity_ sex. Or a pity _kiss_ , either, so don't go trying _that_ again, it's not going to work. I can _tell_ you were only doing it out of _obligation_."

Because that's your _job_. You don't get paid - in whatever energy you can consume and enough human currency to buy whatever supplies you need - to _care_ , just to fuck. For most humans, that's good enough.

Fidgeting with his sleeve, he frowns. "No _really_ , you weren't into that at _all_. Do you even _want_ to be here?"

Does it matter? He summoned you, so you have to do what _he_ wants.

"Would you like to see a movie?" he asks, eventually. "I have- well, I have a _lot_ of them, they make for good _company_ \- I mean, not as good as an actual _person_ like _you_ \- I haven't had much luck while _dating_ recently, you know how it is, and I just thought to myself, _Heinz, why don't you find another type of date_ , and, well, here I am. And here _you_ are, Perry the Platypus."

That's it? All he wants is a _date_? You thought there were _humans_ who could provide _that_ service, and yet he went to your employers in the Underneath? Not only that, he hired _you_. Even if you weren't a demon, you can't pass for _human_."

He sighs, looking down at his feet. "Yeah, I know, I _could_ have hired someone _else_ , but- _Look_ at me."

So you do. He's tall for a human, even with the heavy slouch. Messy brown hair, pallid skin, dark circles under his eyes. You've seen a _lot_ of humans like him.

"Everywhere I go, people are always pointing and _laughing_. And- I mean, _technically_ I'm not even _human_ , I was raised by _ocelots_ , so legally I'm- _That_ always puts people off. The point is, I thought I'd get less judgement from a- Hey! Don't you roll your eyes at _me_! See, _this_ is what I mean."

If he wants to waste the time he's bought with you, that's up to _him_. Not your problem.

He drops to his knees, hands clasped in front of him. " _Please_ , Perry the Platypus, it would mean a lot to me if you'd just, I don't know, spend the evening with me. Just long enough for a _movie_. I'll even make _popcorn_ , how about it?"

A client's a client. Who are you to complain?

Even so, you can't help but wonder what you've gotten yourself in for. As typical as he seemed on paper, in your briefing, in person nothing about him is typical.

* * *

He asks _you_ to pick the movie.

Still bound by the rules of your summoning, you browse through his collection, glancing at the covers. Human movies aren't something you've had much reason to care about. They always end too soon, before you really have a chance to get invested.

One catches your eye as you browse and you pull it out, looking closer. Why is Janette on the cover? Since when did And They Were Roommates have a _movie_ adaptation?

"That one always makes me cry," your client says, looking over your shoulder. "She-" He taps Janette. "-is a bounty hunter, only cares about herself, until one day her target is- Well, you'll see. Hard to believe she also plays Janette, right? They're _totally_ different characters."

You shrug, passing him the case. Looks like you've made your choice. You hope he's happy.

* * *

"Perry the Platypus," he says hesitantly, midway through the movie, squirming in his seat, hands locked together. "I was wondering- I mean you don't _have_ to but- May I hold your hand?"

All you can do is nod. It's your job to honour any request a client makes, while they have your time. Whether or not you _want_ to doesn't come into it. But he's been acting like it _does_ , like your opinion matters, in case you needed more proof he's _odd_ for a human.

He reaches for your hand, then hesitates. "Are you _sure_? I know it's your _job_ but that doesn't mean you're _okay_ with it."

Rolling your eyes, you snatch his hand out of the air, ignoring the warmth on your cheeks. What you _want_ doesn't matter, only results. A signed contract for his soul. And if this ridiculous human gesture will get you that signature, then that's what you'll do.

* * *

Even when the movie finishes and you tug your hand free, your client keeps smiling at you, hope in his eyes. Your job isn't finished yet. Not until he's satisfied, or the six hours are up, whichever happens first.

The two boys you've grown so fond of will have to wait.

"So, you're an incubus, huh?" he begins, turning in his seat, his next request apparently being _small talk_. "Or whatever you call it down there."

A job, mostly. Despite what humans seem to think, no demon is born an incubus, or succubus, or whatever they're calling your line of work this century. You're only here because you'd turned out to have a talent for it.

"And, as an incubus, you're here to bargain for my soul. I read your organisation's _pamphlet_ ," he adds when you raise an eyebrow. " _Satisfying your every desire_... It doesn't _say_ sex, but that's what it means, doesn't it? Trading _sex_ for _souls_? Do you like it?"

You shrug. It's a living, and you take pride in doing it well. You're used to it.

Prodding your shoulder, he huffs. "I didn't ask if you were _used_ to it, I asked if you _liked_ it. I know you demons don't need _sex_ to, you know, _feed_ \- Don't look at me like that, my old _neighbour_ was a succubus. I didn't know at the time, but I'd invite her over for dinner sometimes, when she looked _hungry_ and times were tough, and she always seemed happier when she left, even if she never did touch her food. Never went any further than that, don't you worry."

Why is he trying to justify it? Is he afraid you'll be jealous? His soul is still _his_ to bargain away, that much is obvious from looking at him, so it's not your problem if he _happened_ to meet another demon before.

"I'm just _saying_. Besides, I owed her, after that time she helped with my _arm_ \- So, the _food_ thing. I thought it was weird at the time, so I did some research, and, well, I found a way to contact, what do you call it, the Underneath? And that's how I met _you_."

He says it like it's a compliment, and you sigh. Humans.

Grinning brightly, he shifts closer, not quite enough for contact. "The point is, we don't _need_ to have _sex_ if you don't want to. I can _hand_ le myself." He grins at that, and you can only roll your eyes.

That doesn't stop him being _right_. The gnawing hunger in your belly, that tugs at your mind even after you've met with a client, is easing. Intimacy, you suppose. All you need is someone to open up their emotions. Sex is the easiest method, nakedness and vulnerability being synonymous to most humans, but there's more to intimacy than that.

You should be disappointed to have your feeding restricted like this, denied the work other demons seem to find enjoyment in. What sort of demon passes up an easy meal? Instead, all you can feel is relief.

* * *

Before you know it, your six hours are up.

* * *

When you return to the Underneath, a strange warm feeling in your chest, your manager takes one look at your empty hands and growls out something about a soul.

You shrug in response. Not your fault the man was too distracted for the contract, barely letting you get a word in edgewise. Maybe next time. Your manager can't argue with that, so you're dismissed to return to your small living space.

As one of the best in this business, you'd been given a choice of living arrangements, anywhere from a penthouse apartment like some of the ones you've spent far too much time in - in some cases, even a second was too long - to a mansion perfectly sized for you and the thirty relatives you don't have. Meaningless status symbols. All you'd wanted was somewhere small, cosy, and with enough soundproofing so you didn't have to hear your neighbours bringing their work home with them.

Your furnishings are sparse. A bed in one corner, a human TV always tuned to soap opera reruns so you don't have to miss an episode no matter how hectic your schedule gets, and the block of wood you keep on it as a centrepiece.

"Perry the Inaction Figure", those boys had called it. You wish you could thank them.

Throwing yourself onto your bed, you pull the covers over your head and drift off to the sound of Janette's relationship troubles, your palm still warm from your client's hand.

* * *

Your next client is a big one. Demon after demon has tried for months to get even a sliver of her soul signed away, appealing to every base desire, with no results.

It takes you one attempt.

What you did to get it will haunt you for weeks, so you sigh, leaving her now-sleeping form to make your way back to the two boys you can't stop thinking about. You need the distraction.

Night has fallen by the time you arrive. Ferb's still awake to let you in, so you follow him up the stairs, past the closed doors in the hall, and into the room he shares with his brother. The two of them often let you sleep on their beds, when you arrive late enough, and tonight is no different.

Their parents have no idea you exist. The sister _does_ , but only as a platypus, and you've grown adept at making yourself scarce whenever she starts yelling. The less people who see you, the less risk of being treated as just another demon.

* * *

Exactly halfway through your remaining time, you get up, crossing over to Phineas's bed. He deserves your affection as well.

* * *

A week passes without much fanfare. You see to clients, get your results, spend the rest of the time you can with those two boys.

Then your manager pulls you aside, one evening. "Got a client here for his second session, with-" A quick flick through the paperwork. "Says here, you were assigned to him last time. He wants another go. Nice work on the fake name by the way, that's inspired."

Not as fake as they think. You haven't told anyone about the humans you visit, not sure they'd understand. Work is work, to you, and pleasure... you don't find it where they do.

Whispers spread through the line, demons turning to look at you. "You got a repeat?" one of them gestures, bandaged paws tracing rapid patterns in the air, his own briefing tucked under one arm. Saying what they're all thinking. "Guess you're just like the rest of us after all."

No, you want to say, throat tight. You're _not_ like the rest of them. This is not the life you would have chosen for yourself, not like they have.

But you know the other part of your reputation, that says you're cold and aloof, that you think you're better than everyone, that you'll do whatever it takes to be the best. It hasn't won you many friends. Or any, if you're honest.

What can you do but shrug? Best to go along with the joke, for now. He means well. Just a dig at your perfect record, broken by a strange man in a lab coat. It's almost poetic.

Either way, you step through and into the summoning circle. Maybe this time he'll let you have his soul.

* * *

Heinz looks happy to see you, which isn't as much of a surprise as it should have been. "Glad you could make it, Perry the Platypus." Sitting in an armchair this time, he's once again fully clothed, two mugs on the table in front of him. He gestures at one. "Tea?"

As a demon, you don't need to drink or eat the way humans do. Souls are nutrition enough. Even so, it would be rude, and most likely against the conditions of your usual bindings, to refuse it entirely.

You nod, and he slides it across the table for you to pick up. The scent of tea surrounds you, rich and fragrant, and you find yourself taking a deep breath.

"So, tell me about yourself," he says, resting his chin on his hand. "I know about your _job_ , but not _you_. What you do for _fun_. If you have a special someone down there. Big strong platypus like you must get all the _ladies_ , huh?"

Shrugging, you take a sip of the tea. It's not something you've ever thought much about. You don't have much in common with the other demons you work with, preferring to live a quiet life.

His mouth twists, in the way you're starting to recognise as sympathy. "And I thought _my_ love life was bad. How about family? Do incubi even _have_ families, or do you just _show up_ out of _nowhere_? My family is- I have a _brother_ , but I, uh, I don't really _get on_ with him. He's so obnoxiously _good-looking_ and _friendly_ , here, I'll show you."

The picture he waves in front of your face, printed on a recent newspaper, shows another human. You've never made it a habit to distinguish one human from another. Why bother, when you're never going to see them again?

All you can tell is that the one in the photo isn't too dissimilar from the human in front of you. Same nose. Other than that, the photo looks like every other human.

Your client sits back in his chair, brows furrowed, in what you've by now come to recognise as confusion. "Really? You don't recognise him? He's the _mayor_ , for badness sake, you can't tell me you have no idea who he is."

Politics. You've never been a fan of politics. Tedious enough with demons, all vying against each other for scraps, and humans are worse. Let them squabble amongst themselves while you wrap yourself in blankets and watch Janette try to keep her marriage together, you're staying out of it.

"You _don't_?" he repeats, as the newspaper slips from his fingers. "is that by _choice_ or...?"

By choice, yes. You've found it's best not to care what humans do. They all turn on you eventually, treating you like a _thing_ , like you're beneath them, and not just _literally_ as a citizen of the Underneath.

Your mind turns to the two boys you keep visiting whenever you get a chance, and you suppress a wince. That's why you haven't told them. You don't want them to think any less of you, and there's a _lot_ worse than pretending to be an ordinary mindless platypus for a while.

He reaches out, hand hovering over yours, an offer you accept. "You don't have much of a family, do you?" he murmurs, thumb running over your knuckles. "But there's... someone you wish you were closer to? Just like me, my _daughter_ \- I'm starting to think she doesn't _like_ me. Not that I can blame her, _I_ don't like me either."

But _you_ like him, you want to say, the words getting stuck in your throat with all the rest. Two sessions with the man, and you've come to enjoy his company. Doesn't that mean anything?

Silence descends instead, an almost comfortable absence of sound, like you get with the quieter of the two boys. They've never minded your quietness, and neither does this human in front of you. Heinz. His name is _Heinz_ , and that's starting to _matter_.

* * *

Once again, you return empty-handed. A second session, all six hours by the man's side, and you couldn't convince him to sign his soul away? Your manager seems on edge about it this time. After all, you have a well-earned reputation for competence, so what's so different about this human?

If you knew, you'd tell them. But you don't.

Maybe he'll summon you again. Then you could ask, figure him out. Solve the enigma that is Doctor Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

* * *

Your home is the same as you left it, the TV still blaring, filling the room with the voices of humans you've never met. You're starting to understand what Heinz meant about it feeling almost like _company_.

* * *

After your next client - who hadn't even wanted to touch you, instead asking you to pose while they took photos - you stop by a tea shop on your way to see the two boys. You don't know what you're looking for until you find it, the same scent you remember from your time with Heinz. A reminder that you're more than just the body you inhabit.

The boys are well under way with their project when you reach their neighbourhood. It stretches skywards, into the clouds, and you have to suppress a wince. You'll stay on the ground today. Humans are bad enough, you don't want to deal with the Above as well.

Curling up under their tree instead, you keep a watchful eye on them, in case anything from the Above takes issue with their intrusion. They should be done by the time your last hour is up.

* * *

The tea makes a huge difference in your small room.

Before, it had merely been a place to pass the time between clients, sleeping or letting the sound of the TV wash over you. Now, it's a home.

* * *

The third time he summons you, Heinz officially becomes your first recurring client. You're in a different room this time, the large space full of strange machines, more lived-in than the catalogue-perfect apartment you're used to.

"Behold," he says softly, standing beside you, and you take his dangling hand without thinking, "my inators."

He's an inventor, he says, and you think of the boys you visit. Like them, he's proud of his work. Each _inator_ has a purpose, an explanation, a backstory, which he can - and does - recite at length.

According to him, you're the first person to ever listen. That it's your _job_ doesn't seem to cross his mind.

You sigh, deciding not to bring it up. If the mere thought of an audience makes him this happy, who are you to object? He has enough sadness on his shoulders for one lifetime.

* * *

By the fourth, you've come to look forward to your time together.

Digging through your meagre wardrobe, you pull out the first casual outfit you find underneath all the suits, for the first time in a while. You don't often have reason to bother, between your more typical clients and your lack of social life.

Heinz is different. Though he's never said anything, you've noticed his awkwardness around your naked body. You hope this helps make him more comfortable.

* * *

Even your manager has noticed a change in your demeanour, commenting on how eager you are to go to work these days, in the same breath as they remind you about your reputation. What happened to the demon that could convince _anyone_ to sign away a soul?

You shrug off their words. Feelings happened, you suppose. How can you not feel some fondness for this human who's so different from the rest?

Besides, he's paying full price for your sessions. That has to count for something.

Letting out a sigh, they nod. "Just... be careful," they say, a hand on your shoulder. "You're a good demon, be a shame if you let a human get the best of you."

You don't plan on it.

* * *

"You have a nice smile," Heinz says out of nowhere one day, when you find yourself wondering once again what he gets out of this. Why he wants to spend time with _you_. It's almost an answer to a question you haven't dared ask, and you're not sure if you should feel relieved that he understands you or worried that you're so obvious.

Both, you decide, lifting your head to hum a question at him, the sound easier than forming words. Why the sudden comment?

He smiles, fingers running through your fur, not for the first time. "You come in here looking so _serious_ , and then _bam_ , you're smiling, and it's- it's _nice_ , you know? And you're a good _listener_. I don't know if you _care_ about my backstories, but you don't _interrupt_ them, and that's close enough, right?"

Grumbling under your breath, you burrow into his side. Of course you _care_. He's different from all the other humans you've met, and not just because you still haven't seen him _naked_.

* * *

Sometimes he leads you outside, for what he calls a _date_. Lunch, or dinner, or a movie. Human things.

Not all humans are as welcoming as he is, and you've been barred from more places than you have fingers, but he always argues on your behalf, insisting you have as much right to be there as anyone else. He doesn't always succeed, but he _tries_. That's what matters.

* * *

One night, he summons you, already in his bed, wearing only a thin shirt and boxers. Still more than most of your clients. "Stay with me?" he asks, shivering despite the summer heat. "I had a _nightmare_ , and- and you're the only one I can _ask_. I just- I'd feel a lot _safer_ with _you_ to protect me."

You nod. If this is what he wants you for, who are you to complain?

Sliding under the covers next to him, you roll him onto his side so you can press yourself against his back, your arm across his ribs. It worked for Janette when her friend had a nasty breakup, why wouldn't it help Heinz after his nightmare?

"Thank you, Perry the Platypus," he whispers, pulling his legs to his chest. "I- I really appreciate this."

You hum an acknowledgement, low in your throat, reaching up to stroke his hair. Gentle physical contact, that's what he needs right now. Reassurance that, whatever his nightmare contained, it's over. You're here.

After a while, he stops shaking, his breathing slowing as he returns to sleep. With luck, it's a dreamless one this time.

Tucking your head in against him, you exhale. You hadn't expected to share his bed tonight, or any night, let alone like this. It's nothing like you'd expected from your nights dozing at the foot of one - or rather, two - with your tail curled around yourself.

Here, at least, you don't have to hide. He knows what you are. So here you stay, tail wrapped around _him_ , hand tucked into his, whispering your affections into his thin shirt until you, too, drift off.

* * *

He even, when you work up the courage to tell him about the two boys you visit after your other work, suggests you go to them right then and there, cutting your session with _him_ short. "I'll be fine," he says, brushing off your concern. "Don't worry about _me_ , Perry the Platypus. I'm just glad you have someone out there for you. I mean, what do I have?"

You. He has _you_.

Warmth blooms in your chest and you reach up, taking his head in your hands with a smile, your thumb brushing over his cheek until he relaxes into your hold. "Heinz..." you murmur. Then, for only the second time ever, you press your mouth to his.

This time, you're not treating him like just another human. He's not an obligation, he's _Heinz_ , the human - ocelot - you've come to care for, above and beyond your job.

He squeaks into the kiss, a noise of surprise, hands hovering over your shoulders. "What are you-"

"Kissing you." What's not to understand? "Thought that was obvious."

"Oh," he breathes. "That's- you really mean it? Not that I'm _complaining_ , you're _strong_ and _smart_ and really _cute_ when you laugh, and- and I didn't know you were _interested_. Sure, I _hoped_ , but, you know, this is your _job_. For all I know, you might have been _faking_ it so I'd sign your _contract_ -"

Rolling your eyes, you kiss him again. He talks too much.

Time ticks in the back of your mind, the six hours you get on this plane slipping away, and you pull away to leave. You don't want to waste this gift he's given you.

A flash of sadness crosses his face, and you hesitate. You can't just leave him like this. A bit of rummaging turns up a scrap of paper and a pen, and you scribble down a word, pressing it into his hand. A gift of your own.

"What's this?" he says, looking down at it.

"True name," you explain with a shrug, as if this isn't the most terrifying thing you've ever done. Will he understand what it means? How significant it is, to give him so much power over you, beyond the usual bindings. Even your manager doesn't know the full name, only scraps, but Heinz has it all.

Names have power, you've always known that. With yours, he could control you, compel you, bind you to his side forever.

He unfolds the paper, lips moving as he reads it, the power in that alone sparking down your spine. "For binding?" he confirms, meeting your eyes, and you nod. "Are you sure about this? I don't want to- I don't want you to _regret_ this."

Laying your hands over his, you smile, tears in your eyes. You won't regret it. His concern is proof enough, that you're right to trust him.

"Oh good," he sighs, relief evident in his voice. "So, uh, do you want me to talk to them for you? Those _kids_ you're so fond of, I mean. Since you're so _quiet_ and all. That way you wouldn't have to hide so much from them, I know how much you _hate_ that."

He'd do that for you?

Turning your hands over, he runs his thumbs over your knuckles. "Of course I will, Perry the Platypus. You've given _me_ something to look forward to, I'm just returning the favour." He glances back down at the paper between his fingers with a frown, tugging his other hand back. "So, uh, is there anything you wanted me to _do_ with this?" he asks, carefully tearing a thin strip off the paper, and starting on the next. "Like a binding, or...?"

Of course he _asks_. "Yes." You don't hesitate. A _name_ binding, to tie you to him for the rest of his life. He already feels like _home_ to you, in a way the Underneath never has, why not make it official? "But..." Your belongings-

"When you're ready," he adds, stacking the shreds of paper and twisting the edge off, bit by bit. "Take your time, I can wait."

The new lines on his face say otherwise. He's giving up his life force, faster than it can regenerate, just to spend time with you. The sooner you're bound, the better it will be for his health. You don't _want_ to wait.

"Tomorrow?" you say. That should give you enough time to retrieve your inaction figure, and say your goodbyes.

Exhaling, he clenches his fist around the tiny scraps of paper that used to bear your true name. "Tomorrow." He gives you a smile. "You should go see your... those _boys_ you visit, while you still have time today. That's what you wanted, right? And I'll find somewhere safe to burn this."

Sliding your hand back into his, you squeeze. You're not going without him.

* * *

You lead him out to the suburbs, his finger tucked comfortably into your palm, barely needing to think about the path. It's never mattered where you are in the city, you can always find your way back here.

On the way, you'd discussed the bindings, and the upcoming meeting, and your hopes for each. And your fears. He'd done most of the talking so you'd listened, letting him find your words for you. Words, you know, are his specialty.

"Nice place," he comments, now, as the two of you walk along the quiet streets, the early morning sun casting long shadows. "You know, I was considering buying a house out here once. That one right over there. Look, it's still on the market, do you think I should? It'd mean you wouldn't have far to _walk_ , for one thing. And hey, maybe suburban life would suit me."

Today has to go well first. But if it _does_... you'd like that. You'd like it a _lot_.

Stopping outside the boys' home, you swallow, apprehension rising in your throat. What if something goes wrong? What if they never want to see you again? What if-

He gets down on one knee beside you, fixing the bow tie he'd given you from his own closet. "Do you trust me, Perry the Platypus?"

With all your heart.

Taking a deep breath, you nod, matching his smile. You're ready. With him by your side, you have nothing to be afraid of.

This early, they'll be in the back yard, drawing up blueprints, with no one else awake to see. Not even their sister. Guiding Heinz around to the side gate, you watch them at their work for a few minutes.

Ferb notices you first, nudging his brother as he stands. Lips tight, he keeps his distance, and that hurts more than anything.

"Perry?" Phineas rises to his feet too, his expression unreadable, Ferb at his shoulder. "You wear _clothes_? All this time, we thought you were an ordinary platypus, and you could do _this_? Was it all a lie?"

"Ferb," you croak, dropping Heinz's hand to step forward. "Phineas."

Neither of them move. "You can _talk_ , too?" Phineas demands, knuckles whitening around his pen. "Why didn't you _say_ anything?"

"He _couldn't_ ," Heinz says firmly, without hesitation. "He- Look, he's a _demon_ , he thought you'd react _badly_ to that - which you _are_ , by the way - and he decided lying was the best option. Who cares? _Perry the Platypus_ cares, _that's_ who. So if you fellas could just-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Phineas says, hands up, and you can't look at him. "You mean to tell me your name's _actually_ Perry? I thought that was-"

"From _you_." The words force themselves out, sharper than you intended, leaving only silence in their wake. Do they understand how important that is? The two of them gave you a name, and you _kept_ it. "Means... everything." More than you could ever say, even if you had the words to do it. You hope they realise that.

"You're a demon," Ferb says, quietly. His face, when you dare to look, doesn't share the betrayal on Phineas's, only a quiet disappointment. "I was wondering how long it would take you to tell us."

Wincing, you stare at the ground in shame, blinking back tears. Longer than you should have. You were... afraid, but that doesn't excuse your actions.

Heinz touches your shoulder, the anchor you need. "He wouldn't stop talking about you two, you know. Well, I _say_ talking, it's more in the way he _smiles_. It's kind of _cute_ , actually. You must have made quite the _impression_ on him. And he's not going to _lie_ any more, _are_ you, Perry the Platypus?"

No, no you're not. You've lied enough for one lifetime.

" _Anywho_ ," Heinz continues with a bright smile, squeezing your shoulder, vibrating with his own nervous energy. "I hear you fellas are _inventors_?"

"Yes," Phineas says hesitantly, with a glance at Ferb, "yes we are."

"Well, I'm an inventor too," Heinz continues, with a new enthusiasm. "It's kind of my _thing_. A hobby, really, I, uh, I do it when I'm _bored_. What sort of thing do you fellas make?"

The two of them look at each other, then Ferb steps forward. "Would you like to see?"

"Yeah," Phineas adds, a smile on his face now, "you could help us _build_ something! We were thinking about a giant waterslide." Picking up their blueprints, he offers it to Heinz to look over, then exhales. "You too, Perry."

Does this mean you're forgiven?

The two boys you've come to adore turn to face you, arms outstretched, Phineas grinning wide enough for the both of them. "Come here," Phineas says.

Throat tight with all the words you don't know how to say, you take a step forward. Then another. And another, until you're running into their arms, tears pouring down your cheeks. "Thank you," is all you can say.

* * *

Enough of your life has been spent in six-hour chunks for you to feel the end looming over you. Stretching, you walk over to where Heinz is hard at work on a support strut, tugging on his lab coat. Time to go.

He glances up at your face and nods wordlessly, rising to his feet, and offers you his hand. What else can you do but take it? 

Today has gone better than you could have ever imagined. This entire assignment, even. Who would have thought a man who'd seemed so average on paper would turn out to be the key to your happiness? And yet, Heinz has become everything to you.

Making his excuses, he leads you away, with a promise to come back another time. "Good kids," he murmurs, once you're out of sight. "I can see why you like them."

He's one to talk. The grin hasn't left his face for hours.

"See you tomorrow, Perry the Platypus?" he says, bending down to kiss the top of your bill. "I can, you know, _summon_ you again-"

You shake your head. Not a summon, a _binding_.

Letting out a breath, he nods. "Binding, right, got it. You're _ready_ , then? I don't want to get in the way of whatever _unfinished business_ you have down there..."

Just your Perry the Inaction Figure. And your tea, if you have time.

"I just don't want you to _forget_ anything. Since, from what I could figure out from my _research_ , it's _permanent_ , so who knows if you'll ever get to go _back_? You're still sure about this? I'm not _judging_ , I just- I'm _fine_ with how things _are_ , if you want to keep doing this."

You reach up, twisting your hands into his shirt, and yank him down into a kiss. Of course you're _sure_.

* * *

Telling your manager you're retiring goes better than expected, in that they replace the soul crystal on your wrist with one that can open a portal across planes. "In case you ever decide to come back," they'd said, sending you on your way.

The rumour spreads through what seems like the entire Underneath before you've even left the meeting. Demons of all shapes and sizes come up to congratulate you as you walk back to retrieve your inaction figure, wishing you a long life with your human. After all, it's not every day a human binds a demon fully, let alone by choice.

"Guess you weren't like the rest of us after all," one signs at you, with an amused quirk of his head. "Good luck up there. Hope it's worth knowing I'll beat all your records."

You nod, a smile coming easily to your bill. If he wants your place as top demon, and he _does_ , he's welcome to _try_.

Dropping the sly grin, he walks alongside you, the movement of his bandaged paws more careful now. Serious. "Glad to see you can smile after all. Must be special, your human, to win over a hardass like you."

Yes, yes he is.

"I mean it, though. Good luck up there." With that, he pats your shoulder and disappears back into the crowd.

* * *

Heinz still summons you, the usual way, one last time.

"I wanted to make sure you had everything," he explains, with a sheepish shrug that brings warmth to your heart and your cheeks. "I see you've got your- Hey, is that an action figure of you? Oh, an _in_ action figure. Let me guess, those boys made it for you?"

Of course they did. And many more, but you'd been content with just the one. It's your most prized possession.

Putting it to one side for now, your tea stacked on top, you take his hands. You're shaking. Why are you shaking, this is _Heinz_ , you _trust_ him. That's why you're doing this.

He exhales. "Yeah, I'm nervous too. _Kind_ of out of my depth here. I've never done this before, what if I make a mistake?"

Then you'll try again. And again, and again, until he gets it right.

"Thank you, Perry the Platypus," he says, quietly. "I'm glad _you_ at least have faith in me. So, are you ready for this?"

"Yes," you say, for his sake. "Ready. Love you."

Glancing down at your fingers curled around his, he squeezes, a blush on his cheeks. Your human. "I," he mumbles, as unsure with his words as you always feel, "I love you too. I'm- I'm glad I met you."

You lift his knuckles to your bill, kissing them. The feeling's mutual.

* * *

After the binding, which he of course did perfectly, your life has changed, for the better. You're happy, happier than you realised was possible.

The first thing he'd done, afterwards, is introduce you to the daughter he's spoken so much about. "I didn't want to _change_ anything for her until I knew this would _last_ ," he'd explained.

He did buy the house in the suburbs, in the end. Now, every weekend, you spend the night there with him, waking up early to join the local neighbourhood kids in whatever Ferb and Phineas are doing. Heinz always tags along, as _adult supervision_.

Even hunger is a thing of the past. You spend your days with Heinz, drinking in the casual intimacy he shares with you, sated for the first time in your life. What's not to love? He's looking healthier as well, now that he doesn't have to spend his life force just to see you. The bags under his eyes have lessened, with you to ward off his nightmares; he's eating better and more regularly; and when new lines appear on his face, they're all from joy. 

All in all, life is good.

**Author's Note:**

> And they all live happily ever after.
> 
> No really, it says that in my outline, right at the end, "and they all live happily ever after".
> 
> Title from [Mickey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_DidakFSpg) by Toni Basil. Or, if you prefer, [Kitty](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h3JxiB4FLjU) by Racey. ~~This edit brought to you by a loop of Heir Of Grief.~~
> 
> This is my longest oneshot thus far, beating out Spearow's Adventure ~~unless you count AOTSS which I don't~~. Why is it so long. Why did it take _four days_ to edit (I can usually edit a draft in an evening). Why did it (just barely) more than double in length from the draft. Help me.
> 
> The two other demons who have a role are both OCs of mine. Volkair (african wild dog) as the bandaged-paw succubus because that fits him so well, and I guess the manager is Gyflupi (owlbear)? Right pronouns, anyway.
> 
> The parallel to sex work is, well, it's more explicit (and deliberate) than canon, here. I did what I could to avoid implying there's anything wrong with it (in general; obviously it's wrong _for Perry in particular_ here), but I acknowledge that I probably didn't do the best job, particularly with the story I was telling.
> 
> Perryshmirtz server in series description as always.


End file.
